


Slow Like Summer

by UrbanHymnal



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Ficlet, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Madison Ficlet, Porn with Feelings, snapshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 10:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6850792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UrbanHymnal/pseuds/UrbanHymnal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack and Bitty are finally alone together in Bitty's childhood bedroom during Jack's visit to Madison.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slow Like Summer

Jack’s hand slides down, fingers trailing along the soft bit of hair gathered just below Bitty’s belly button. His pinkie pauses, a request, just barely hooked under the elastic of Bitty’s boxers. He waits. Bitty shivers against him; his breath catches: permission and begging in one small gasp. Jack moves then, hand sure, breath hot against Bitty’s nape. 

He doesn’t grasp Bitty’s cock right away, nor does he tease. Telegraphing his moves, Jack firmly skirts his hand around Bitty’s cock, lets his palm linger in the hot space where Bitty’s thigh meets his crotch. Safe. Secret. The pads of his fingers caress the soft skin there before moving back up– slow, so slow– to finally brush against the hair gathered around the base of Bitty’s cock. Jack wants to see it (needs to), but he won’t press, won’t overwhelm. There’s time. 

Bitty’s throat clicks as he tries to swallow. He reaches one hand up, fingers shaking and overly warm, and lights it on Jack’s arm. He hesitates; Jack kisses him just behind his ear. Encouraged, Bitty reaches down and entangles his finders around Jack’s and guides it, finally, to his cock. Jack moans softly into Bitty’s neck. Bitty's cock is hard, hot and perfect. Already Jack can feel the fine tremor running through Bitty's thighs as he tries to stay still, tries to keep from rocking up into their joined hands.

Something aches deep in Jack's gut at Bitty's eagerness. It's impossible to name, but calls out with the same want that shakes Bitty's body. They had talked before all this had begun; Bitty stuttered out his confession that he had little experience, chin still held up in defiance despite his sudden shyness. A dare. It was fine. Neither did Jack, in sex or in...this. (His mind skates and circles the word 'love,' just as shy as Bitty had been on that day.) But here, in the humid quiet of Bitty’s childhood bedroom, lack of experience falls away to the rhythm of Jack moving his hands over Bitty’s skin. 

Sweat gathers, stays, in the small of Bitty’s back. His moan, bitten and held, flutters between them, vibrating from Bitty’s chest to Jack’s and back again. Jack rubs his thumb in gentle, teasing circles; the callus on his thumb catches on the sensitive skin on Bitty's cock. Bitty whines and thrusts his hips forward, seeking more contact from Jack's hand. Jack follows him, just as quickly. Hips move, rocking pendulum together: Jack chasing Bitty chasing Jack. Bitty’s back arches and his muscles tense. His head falls back and comes to rest on Jack’s shoulder. From this angle, Jack peeks at the red blush spreading across Bitty's cheeks and down his chest. Beautiful. Bitty's free hand digs bruises into Jack’s thigh as his movements become more fragmented and hurried. He comes, silent save for a soft ‘oh oh oh.’ Jack thinks he can hear a prayer in between those sounds. 

Bitty goes limp against him, finally releasing his grip on Jack’s thigh. The rush of blood to the surface of his skin aches deep. Jack whimpers. He wants Bitty’s palm print tattooed against his skin in dark blue and purple. Owned and owning. Possessing and possessed. 

Hand still sticky with Bitty’s come, Jack pulls Bitty closer. Any space at all is too much. He tugs gently at Bitty's cock, the softening skin like silk in the palm of his hand, slipping between his wet fingers. Bitty squirms and gasps. Pleasure intensifies until it spills over into too much (not enough).  Bitty squeezes Jack hand, a shudder running through him as his spent cock twitches at the teasing. Jack pulls his hand away and smiles into Bitty's skin, then pulls Bitty's boxers the rest of the way off. They land somewhere, forgotten and damp. Jack's soon follow. 

Skin to skin now, Jack bucks. His cock catches against the cleft of Bitty’s ass. He _needs_. Bitty shushes him and settles once more in Jack’s arms. The sweat above Bitty’s ass slicks the way. Jack pulls him in tighter. Tighter. He rubs against Bitty, feeling unmoored, until Bitty squeezes what little he can reach of Jack just as tightly and meets Jack's thrusts. 

Grounded, Jack soars. He wraps one leg around Bitty’s calf and comes hard with one final push. The mess spreads down Bitty’s ass, sticks to Jack’s stomach. His hips shudder, half-aborted thrusts still driving for more. He breathes hard against the crown of Bitty’s head, inhales summer and sugar and breathes out cold and hurt and loneliness. Bitty fills him, and he hopes that he does the same for Bitty. He closes his eyes as Bitty turns in his arms and nuzzles against him. It feels like an answer.

They stay there. Cleaning and confessions can come later, soft teases and gentle touches hidden under the darkness of night. The two of them, curled tight against each other, are caught in amber. They breathe and the world crawls slowly around them. The sunset paints fading gold and red against the walls, but never seems to slip towards darkness. Together, Jack and Bitty rest, tangled and messy, and let the heat of summer cover them like a blanket.


End file.
